


I Can't Remember To Forget You

by thesourthernpansy



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, High School AU, Human AU, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), JUST STOP PINING ALREADY, LIKE LEGIT SLOOOOOOO, M/M, Pining, The Ineffable Plan (Good Omens), sixth form AU, slowburnepic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-13 09:31:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20580293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesourthernpansy/pseuds/thesourthernpansy
Summary: Ezra Cherubim Fell and Anthony James Crowley are two people with radically different families, and expectations. The one class they share will ultimately be the thing that brings them together.Trigger Warning-implied domestic abuse





	1. To Live is the Rarest Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, first of all, I'd like to say a big thank you to my amazing beta @knightofthesevenfandoms for what could only be anxious texts at all the hours of the night, and being bombarded with emails as my first draft quickly turned into my fourth so yeah, THANK YOU. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I started planning this 100K SLOWBURN EPIC( yes, that is both a promise and a threat) over the summer holidays, and so only got to truly writing when school had already started. Apologies if some chapters are late, or something sounds a bit strange as I was probs writing this at around 2 am. Also, although I am English, and do know how the school system works, I may have taken some creative license with the classes and expectations, as well as the general feel of the settings. My language may seem a bit formal now, as I just got back from school, however I imagine the longer im on here and the later it is in the night, ill probs loosen up a bit. That's all for now thanks, now you can get on with ACTUALLY READING IT!!!  
I would also like to reiterate the TRIGGER WARNING for DOMESTIC ABUSE.

Ezra Fell furiously pedalled his bike as he hurriedly checked his watch. 8:35. Great. 10 minutes to go and then he was officially late. He attempted to increase his speed even more, but as Ezra swung his focus back to the path ahead of him, he had to swerve out the way almost immediately as a slightly terrified young mother pushed her pram out of harms way.  
'It's okay', he told himself, 'if she'd ever taken 3 A-levels she'd understand.'.  
He had a free period first, which was great, since that meant he could spend it in the library, but he still needed to register, and he had only 6 minutes left!  
A car let him through, earning itself a quick flashed grin as Ezra sped past. 5 minutes to go and he was nearly there. Great. Maybe he could ask the librarian for that rare misprinted Bible she'd promised him only the other day.  
Ah, finally. The school gates loomed as he quickly chained his bike to the railings. That was when it started to pour. Ezra hurried inside, huddling under his greatcoat and nestling his plethora of various folders under his shoulder. As he glanced back to make sure his bike was all right, he saw a young man with a mop of unruly, ginger hair getting out of his car. He was dressed in a tight shirt and trousers, with shoes that were a bit too high. But he had to hurry.  
Dry at last after a quick scrub in the boy's bathrooms, and Ezra was trudging up the stairs to the Library. ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Anthony J. Crowley woke up to the sound of his alarm beeping furiously, and rolled over with a groan. Surely it couldn't be Monday already, could it? And yet when he closed his eyes to enjoy the remnants of sleep, his mother woke him with a cry of ' Anthony! I know that it is a Monday, but it is also already your second week of school! It's time to get back into your routine, dearest!', after which she bustled off into the kitchen to collect Crowley's breakfast. He sighed and heaved himself up from the mattress as the smell of coffee made its way into his room. 

By the time Crowley had gotten changed into another ridiculous outfit that his mother chose to carefully ignore, and had finished making his hair stylishly messy in a way that only he could pull off, it was already 8:35. Normally it took him around 15 minutes to get to school, so he really needed to get a move on. He collected up his breakfast, kissing his mother on the cheek as he left, and clambered into his 2011 Fiat Panda. His mother had called it 'a good car for a student to have' and thus it was so. Crowley, however, preferred something a bit flashier, and instead referred to his car as 'the Bentley', relishing the confused looks of people as they wondered whether he knew what he was talking about. 

Anthony swerved as a pedestrian decided to exercise their rights to the crossings, and cursed under his breath. He had Latin first, followed by two free periods and then double Drama. He'd pleaded his parents to let him take Drama for A-Level, and they'd almost said no but then Crowley's Full Charm Offensive kicked in and they were no match for it.  
He let his mind wander as he pulled into the school's car park (just in time, 8:43), but was shocked to see that there someone else there too. A young blonde boy was hastily chaining his bicycle to the bike rack opposite the parking spaces, and began to look very flustered when it began to rain. But it was only when he fully turned around that Crowley recognized him as the quiet boy in his English Literature class. It was at that moment that a beam of sun filtered through the clouds, shining on the boy's hair, lighting his golden curls up like a halo. He was dressed in beige trousers, a cream shirt and waistcoat, with dress shoes and a tartan bowtie to match. Anthony forced himself to look away as he stumbled out the car and into the building to sign himself in. It was going to be quite a day, he could tell.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Library was cosy and warm compared to the rain outside. Ezra sank into a plushy armchair and began to read. He read and he read, eventually becoming so engrossed in his book that time seemed to stop. It was only when the second bell, to tell everyone the 5 minutes to get to lessons is up, rang, that Ezra finally snapped out of his book-induced reverie. Well this wasn't great. He collected his things and was out of the Library like a bullet.  
What did he actually have now? Ezra rounded a corner and almost knocked a History Professor of their feet. Ah, yes. Religious Studies. Up to this point his legs had mainly been on auto-pilot, however now he walked with more purpose. Another bend and a long stretch of corridor to go.  
The door of the Religious Studies classroom was just a couple metres away... There. He hoped he wasn't too late. Ezra turned to the window of a vacant classroom to neaten himself up a bit. Bowtie straightened, he politely knocked on the door, waiting for his teacher to answer it. He had been a good friend to Ezra, and was always very understanding if something unfortunate like this happened.  
But a young woman opened the door, with a cross 'Mr Fell, you are late'.  
'But, but you're not Mr. Gabriel!' Ezra manged to stutter.  
'That's Mr. Ingel to you, Mr. Fell.' She sat down with a sigh, 'I have taken over this class and all of Mr. Ingel's other classes while he's gone. We do not know when he will be back.' The woman stood up and went to pick something up and write on it. She then wrote her name on the board, ' I am Miss Anael Virtue, and you Mr Fell, are in detention.' She handed him a slip of paper with the words 'Ezra Fell- lateness detention', Ezra groaned inwardly and went to sit down at his desk. So much for actually enjoying a subject, huh? 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Crowley sauntered into the school just in time, signing his name on the register and walking leisurely to Latin, where he was greeted at the door with a 'Harumph'. He swanned into the room, only to freeze when he passed the teacher's desk.

'Mr. Anthony James Crowley!' Crowley started involuntarily,' Those shoes are far too tall, and are a significant violation of the school's dress code!'  
Crowley sighed and silently accepted his detention slip, before going to sit down in his chair at the back.  
The lesson dragged on and on, as though someone had stopped the clocks. But Crowley couldn't stop thinking about the youth with the shock of blonde curls, dressed like an old man. He grinned to himself.  
'What is so engrossing, Mr. Crowley, that you have spent the last 10 minutes staring at the wall thinking about it? Perhaps you'd like to share your revelations with the class?'  
A few snickered as Anthony blushed and quickly bent to scribble something in is book, struggling to look awake to the outside world.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The last bell rang, and Ezra heaved himself up from his seat to stretch. He had detention now. Wonderful. As he began to walk, he wondered who else was going to be there. He rarely ever got a detention, but when he did he was always very interested in the other people there, and sometimes, the weird and wonderful reasons they were given their detentions.  


___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When everything was done in the Library, and the bell had gone, Crowley packed up his Drama homework and started to head down to the detention room. He tried to stay out of here, mostly because his parents said it would 'muddy up his school record', but sometimes he couldn't help but disobey. He supposed that, in a way, it was just part of who he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, first of all, I'd like to say a big thank you to my amazing beta @knightofthesevenfandoms for what could only be anxious texts at all the hours of the night, and being bombarded with emails as my first draft quickly turned into my fourth so yeah, THANK YOU. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I started planning this 100K SLOWBURN EPIC( yes, that is both a promise and a threat) over the summer holidays, and so only got to truly writing when school had already started. Apologies if some chapters are late, or something sounds a bit strange as I was probs writing this at around 2 am. Also, although I am English, and do know how the school system works, I may have taken some creative license with the classes and expectations, as well as the general feel of the settings.   
If anyone's interested in the title, it actually comes from one of Oscar Wilde's quotes.   
Kudos much appreciated!


	2. Always Forgive Your Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In detention, one stands out to the other, none of them think much of it, but then here we are...

Crowley sauntered into the detention hall only to see that most of it was full, leaving only two spaces in the very front. He sat in one of them and wondered who was to sit next to him. He rather hoped it would be someone interesting, and not a stuck-up mischief-maker who actually decided to do what they were meant to do in detention, which Crowley wasn't actually sure HE knew. The teacher sitting in the large desk was Miss Lucy Ferr, of who Crowley was actually a favourite. She double-checked her list again, noticing for the second time that there was a student missing. She would give them 5 minutes, then upgrade them to a double detention for truancy.  
Just then you could here hurried footsteps, and the door soon opened to reveal none other than the youth from that morning. Slightly red in the face he walked over to Miss Ferr's desk to hand in his slip of paper. Crowley grinned at the thought of him for the second time that day.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Ezra came to Miss Lucy Ferr's desk, and silently gave in his detention slip before softly saying, 'Ezra C. Fell. Yes, there I am'. He glanced over only to notice that the ridiculously dressed young man from this morning was sitting next to the only available seat left in the room. Well if such a coincidence just happened, he could hardly refuse to sit there, could he?  
When he walked over to his chair and desk, he noticed the boy grinning to himself. Ezra wondered what made him grin like that. Whatever it was, it was certainly entertaining, as his eyes took on a glassy effect, making him appear even more vacant. Ezra quietly put his bag down under his desk and pulled out his copy of 'The Picture of Dorian Gray'. So what if he had already read it, in the words of Oscar Wilde, 'If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all.'. He grinned then, the thought of his favourite author spurring him on to finally open his page to where his bookmark was lodged and continue reading.  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Crowley saw the boy getting his book out and start reading, realising he was a reader through-and-through. He silently watched him for a couple of minutes, all the while glancing back at Miss Ferr to make sure she wasn't watching too attentively. Thankfully, she was just planning her next Drama lesson, looking thoroughly engrossed in her task.  
After enough time had passed, Crowley ripped a page from his Student Planner, quickly wrote something on it and passed it to the boy with the fair hair. He wondered what his response was going to be.  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Picking up the piece of paper that his next-door-neighbour had just passed him, Ezra glanced over the short question written in unruly handwriting that utterly fit with the ginger's 'aesthetic'. A hastily scrawled, ' What you in for?' looked back at him, as Ezra retrieved his pen from the recesses of his jacket pockets with a sigh to write his answer on the paper. He neatly folded it, taking pains to make sure that the edges lined up together, before carefully passing it back to the person to his left. He picked up his book again and continued with the story that he knew and loved.  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
He hadn't expected an answer, indeed, Crowley had wondered whether the unknown student would even grace his paper with a read, and yet it was so. He read the angelic boy's answer, a smile creeping up onto his face as he saw, 'Late to Religious Studies. You?'. Crowley quickly wrote an answer, wondering whether he knew the mysterious boy's name. He must have, he mused, because he must have said it when he came in. It was there, Anthony just couldn't quite put his finger on it. After a quick thought, he scribbled something else on the paper and then folded it. It was at this point that Crowley looked to the boy grinning, realising too late that he was already watching him, and thus they locked eyes. Crowley sucked in a breath, the boy's were a startling blue, never-ending. It was although he couldn't look away; he was drowning in his eyes. It was then that Crowley remembered that he didn't have his glasses, as both his normal and spare pair were getting fixed. It seemed that Crowley was just too preoccupied that day to notice the deficiency of one of his most coveted possessions. Who would've thought that Mr Anthony J. Crowley would ever forget his sunglasses? The thing was, Crowley didn't feel self-conscious, even though he could feel the youth's amazed apprehension at his eyes. Two impossible things in one day. What an achievement. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

While Ezra had been gazing thoughtfully at the other boy, he hadn't expected him to glance up. He hadn't expected to lock eyes with him. He certainly hadn't expected him to have such gorgeous eyes. The young man's eyes were a deep yellow, the kind you could fall into and never come back out of. The pitch-black iris was almost snake-like in its shape, as unique as the boy who he was looking at. Ezra quickly looked away, only to find that their note was now resting on his table. He picked it up, wondering what it was that warranted the school giving him detention. As Ezra read the note though, he grinned, this perfect fit his neighbour in every way. The boy had written back, 'My shoes were too high. Guess my fashion sense is just too good for this school :)' Ezra glanced down at the stranger's shoes, the heels really were quite high, he had to concede. It was only then that he noticed another small sentence in the corner of the page. 'What's your name? I'm Anthony James Crowley, although most people call me Crowley.' So that was what the mysterious individual called himself. Crowley, it was a pleasant enough name, Ezra decided, and wrote his own on the other side of the paper, passing it back to Crowley.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Crowley glanced at the angelic boy's answer; he was eager to finally find his name out. When he finally found the reply, he was pleasantly surprised. 'Ezra C. Fell'. Ezra. He had always liked that name, and realised now just how much it suited the other boy. Something in his mind clicked. That's what he said to Miss. Lucy! It all made sense now. But, wait a second, what did the C. stand for! Crowley quickly wrote his thoughts down on paper, hoping that the direct 'What does the C. stand for?' would get his point across. 'Oh, well', he mused, 'no time like the present,' silently passing it back over the divide to his interlocutor, wondering what other surprises Ezra could have in store for him.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Ezra read the note and groaned inwardly. He rather hoped he wouldn't have to do this, but that was life for you, never what you anticipate, never what you plan. He scribbled down his favourite name, the one he mostly held from others since he thought they wouldn't appreciate it as much as he did. But for some reason, Ezra thought it right to trust Crowley with this precious gift, even if he didn't know what he was receiving.  
When he handed over the slip of paper, he could swear he felt his hand trembling.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
When Crowley read the latest piece of information he'd got from Ezra, he almost snorted at what he read. But soon enough, he felt the past-tense used was a bit too in the past, at least for Ezra. 'Gave'. His mum 'gave' him his name. A startling sense of intimacy struck Crowley as he pondered the connotations of the sentence, hoping it didn't mean what he thought it did. Still, though, he thought it was a nice name. Ezra Cherubim Fell. Yes, a really nice name in all senses of the word.

Minutes past, time ticked by, but neither of the boys conversed any longer, almost as if their conversation had reached a natural end. Both of them sat pondering whatever it was that they pondered, resulting in a startlingly large amount of homework going unfinished. Reliable information suggests that Crowley was pondering whether ducks have ears, but that we will never know.  
When the bell finally rang to signal the end of detention, a relieved sigh escaped from all the present students mouths. The torment was over; it was time to go home.  
But when Ezra started to leave Crowley called after him, 'I'll see you, 'round, Angel', to which Ezra grinned and hurried on to get his bicycle and go home. That had been fun, Ezra personally thought, but he hardly thought that Crowley was any more interested in him than in whether ducks have ears (in which he was very interested; make your own assumptions about that.). Besides, now was not the time to start buying into the myth of a real social life, he had an education to get back to. So with the word 'Angel' still ringing in his ears, he set off back home on his perfectly normal velocipede, back to books and schoolwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, first of all, I'd like to say a big thank you to my amazing beta @knightofthesevenfandoms for what could only be anxious texts at all the hours of the night, and being bombarded with emails as my first draft quickly turned into my fourth so yeah, THANK YOU. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I started planning this 100K SLOWBURN EPIC( yes, that is both a promise and a threat) over the summer holidays, and so only got to truly writing when school had already started. Apologies if some chapters are late, or something sounds a bit strange as I was probs writing this at around 2 am. Also, although I am English, and do know how the school system works, I may have taken some creative license with the classes and expectations, as well as the general feel of the settings.   
If anyone's interested in the title, it actually comes from one of Oscar Wilde's quotes.   
Kudos much appreciated!


	3. Every Saint Has a Past, Every Sinner a Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their chance encounter in detention, neither of our protagonists have thought much of it. But when they're put together for a group project on Oscar Wilde, things start to come together [but slooowly cos i didn't promise you guys a slow burn for nothing (: ]

When Ezra had woken up that day, it was to his head aching something dreadful. Slowly, the events of the night came back to him one at a time. And we all know how this sounds, but no. No Ezra didn't go to a rave, and NO he did not get drunk. He did, however, stay up 'till 2:30 doing his homework so that Future Ezra didn't have to. It was now 7:00, as Ezra _really_ didn't want to get detention for being late _again_, as fun as that had been.

Ezra now had what he considered a comfortable amount of time to get ready, collect all his various folders together, actually brush his hair and just overall PREPARE for the day ahead. No what was on his timetable again? Ah, there it was. He had Religious Studies, after which he had a free period, then double Classics with Mr. Baphomet, who he didn't like very much, on his tendency to start singing along to a Sound of Music soundtrack that wasn't playing. To cap that all off, he then had English Literature with Ms. Agnes Nutter, who he DID like, even though she was barmy and everyone knew it. Ezra had heard (though one can't imagine HOW, it wasn't as though Ezra was exactly the most _popular_) that they were to do a project in English Literature, although there was some discourse as to what the project would be on. Ezra hoped it would be about something interesting, he couldn't manage _another_ dull project, already adding to the overall mediocrity of the start of the school year. Once Ezra had fully woken, brushed his teeth, combed his hair and gotten dressed, he still had half an hour to go before he actually needed to leave. He didn't have any homework left to do, he could thank Past Ezra for that one. so what was he to do? He didn't want to stay at home and risk being late again, but he also didn't want to go to school early and have nothing to do there. After some minutes of careful consideration, Ezra decided to go to school, so he could stay in the Library. Best-case scenario, the librarian had found the misprinted Bible and was willing to lend it to him. Worst-case scenario, he could always take a nap in the back. With that resolve Ezra went downstairs, got on his bike, and drove off to the Library, and, hopefully, naps in the back. ____ 

Crowley woke with a start as he remembered his Latin homework. Damn. 'It's okay,' he told himself, 'just go to the Library right now and you'll have 45 minutes to do whatever is needed.', after which he bustled off to chose a more sensible outfit, (which did still mean quite ridiculous), got changed, brushed his hair, teeth, and anything else that needed brushing.  
When he got into his car 15 minutes later with a piece of toast that he didn't want, but ate to humour his mother, he paused to check the height of his boots. Technically, the school couldn't object to his dress sense, but he also didn't want to get another detention for the height of his shoes two days in a row.  
As he sped off down the main road, Crowley wondered what Ezra was doing right now.

____  
Arriving in the Library, Ezra felt a sudden wave of exhaustion sweep over him, reminding him of how little he slept last night (or this morning, if you prefer). He made his way over to the back of the Library, admitting defeat and contenting himself with the thought of a fulfilling nap before lessons started.  
He settled in a corner, balling up another of his tartan sweaters to serve as a pillow for his weary head. Ezra managed to somehow get no creases in his makeshift pillow, his want for neatness overpowering whatever ideas the sweater entertained, whether it liked it or not. He nuzzled down into the soft, worn fabric, and soon dropped off to a light sleep, with an alarm set off for 5 minutes before the bell went so as to give himself enough time to chase the sleep from his eyes. Ezra was soon enveloped in the comforting embrace of Sleep, all thoughts irrelevant as exhaustion finally got the better of him. ____ The stairs of the Library were too steep, in Crowley's opinion. He sighed and continued his ascent. He already knew what to do, and how to do it, he just needed to get in down into his book. Crowley passed by the Librarian's desk, a Miss Lilith Viceroy, painfully sarcastic at the best of times, and looked over into the depths of the study tables dotting one side of the Library. You can imagine his surprise when he saw none other but Ezra Cherubim Fell there! Crowley could see that Ezra was sleeping peacefully, his undoubtedly soft cheeks resting against his sweater. His eyelashes fluttered for a second, and he stirred, but quickly went back to his dreams. Anthony smiled at the young man, happy that for whatever reason, he was getting the rest he clearly needed. He walked to the blue chairs on the other side of the Library and started doing his homework. Why had he taken Latin, anyway? ____ The bell rang startling Crowley, who closely missed Ezra leaving the Library as he hurried off to his lessons. The day had started, whether they liked it or not. ____ Passing by in a blur, both boys' school day was nearly up. All they had left after lunch was English Lit. , which neither were looking forward too, one due to his immense exhaustion, despite a somewhat-fulfilling nap earlier, and the other due to the fact that he had only realised that he done the homework all wrong just as he was handing in to his teacher. They went their separate ways to their classroom, the vast hallway network of the school allowing them to pass by each other like ships in the dark, always on the brink of bumping into one another, always just missing.

____

Ezra sat at the front, eyes glazing as he contemplated the recent developments of his book. There was so much going on that he was almost hit with a sense of awe at the true extent of the author’s genius. He rather hoped that they would touch on Oscar Wilde, but he somehow doubted it. Ezra vaguely saw out of the corner of his eye that someone had come in and was walking towards the back, but he didn’t think much of it, and continued to daydream.  
It was not long before Mrs Nutter had asserted her (limited) control of the class, and began to explain the project that they were starting today. She would put them in to pairs, and let them go off to discuss the parameters of their work together. They were to answer one question, in detail, regarding a certain aspect of a famous author’s life. Mrs. Nutter stayed very secretive throughout her explanation as to what the author’s name was, increasing the already rising tension in the room from the entire class of avid readers and connoisseurs of literature. At last, the moment had come, but from all the names Ezra had expected her to say, the one she did entirely caught him off guard.  
‘Mr Oscar Wilde’  
Immediately the class erupted in loud whispers of excitement, as well as anticipation as the students realised that the groups were still to be decided.  
One by one, Mrs Nutter assigned people a partner, and soon either excited squeals or downhearted groans arose as friends found themselves a team and acquaintances found themselves not with their friends. There were only a handful of students left to be paired when Ezra was caught off guard for the second time that lesson.  
‘Ezra C. Fell and Anthony J. Crowley. What an unexpected pair. Yes, that should do quite nicely. Now come on, gentlemen, go and sit with each other. I’m sure neither of you bite.’  
And with that she continued.  
Ezra moved to sit next to Crowley, and they both silently watched on as another unlikely pair was made of Anathema Device, an outspoken climate activist, and Newton Pulsifer, a computer geek who could never quite figure out how to stop all the computers he used always breaking after he pressed ‘Enter’.  
Ezra looked back to the well-dressed young man, a mix of emotions; he was excited about the project, sure, I mean, it’s favourite author! But on the other hand, he was worried about working with this mysterious individual that he knew so little about. He decided to just forge ahead and try to make the best of the it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, first of all, I'd like to say a big thank you to my amazing beta @knightofthesevenfandoms for what could only be anxious texts at all the hours of the night, and being bombarded with emails as my first draft quickly turned into my fourth so yeah, THANK YOU. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I started planning this 100K SLOWBURN EPIC( yes, that is both a promise and a threat) over the summer holidays, and so only got to truly writing when school had already started. Apologies if some chapters are late, or something sounds a bit strange as I was probs writing this at around 2 am. Also, although I am English, and do know how the school system works, I may have taken some creative license with the classes and expectations, as well as the general feel of the settings.   
You may have guessed by now that all the chapter titles will be Oscar Wilde quotes, as is the case with this one :)  
Also, Baphomet is a devil, supposedly worshipped by the Knights of Templar  
Thanks for checking out my fic! Kudos always welcome!


End file.
